


love (comes wearing stupid shirts)

by thewriterofperfectdisasters



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Flirting, Flirting, M/M, actually it's more like, i really don't know what to tag this with honestly, that's about it honestly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:07:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24912079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewriterofperfectdisasters/pseuds/thewriterofperfectdisasters
Summary: This present was, unfortunately, not socks. It wasn’t even some kind of novelty underwear. Perhaps worse than that even, it was a singlet top. A muscle back? One of those things. The things he wore to the gym. It was camo green, so that was a good start, but when he unfolded it, Nik’s stomach dropped to his knees, and he looked back up at Damen with absolutemurderin his eyes.‘Do you like it?’ Damen asked – littleshit. ‘I saw it and thought of you.’
Relationships: Auguste/Nikandros (Captive Prince), Damen & Nikandros (Captive Prince)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 118





	love (comes wearing stupid shirts)

**Author's Note:**

> oof, been a while, huh? my bad lol. i'll probably post another thing or two (or three?) over the next month bc it's midyear break (yay!) and then i'll disappear back into the void until november. probably.
> 
> buuuuuut this has been sitting in my drafts for uhhhhh months, so i'm yeeting it out. i wish i could say i made up the existence of this shirt but alas, i did not. facebook ads are really fucking weird, dudes. what in the fuck do they think i'm doing out here if this is what they're trying to sell me? anyway.
> 
> title vaguely from saint motel's my type - *~love comes wearing disguises~* yes i know it's terrible but as always, it's 3am so! we're stuck with it, kids.

The day Damen gave him that shirt was the first time in his entire life that Nik had actively considered how to end their friendship. For some reason, you see, Damen had decided to bring his birthday gift to the dinner Nik had organised. At a very fancy restaurant.

Usually this wouldn’t bother Nik, he knew Damen gave great gifts – thoughtful, perfectly selected and wrapped so well Nik would think he’d had them gift-wrapped in store, except he’d seen Damen’s wrapping skills in action. Damen was the _one_ person that Nik would trust to bring his birthday gift to a public space.

Until. Fucking. Now.

There were three, you see. The first was a new case for his phone, because Nik had been complaining about not being able to find the exact case he wanted anywhere in stores or in stock online, so Damen had _somehow_ found one for him. Military grade, shock absorbing, light yet sturdy. Perfect.

The second was a huge puzzle – two thousand pieces of pure mindless entertainment for a rainy weekend. Nik had recently got into puzzles, but was yet to mention this fact to Damen. He must’ve just seen the stack of boxes still in their shrinkwrap beside his couch when he was at Nik’s apartment a few weeks ago. He was observant like that.

The third, the final, the _fatal_ present, was small and soft. Nik thought maybe socks, but it didn’t quite feel like socks. Besides, socks were too impersonal for Damen, unless he knew Nik really wanted or needed a certain kind, then he’d get some. Last year, he’d given Nik a set of three pairs with different dogs on them. They were now his favourite socks, pulled out only for special occasions so they wouldn’t be worn through as fast.

This present was, unfortunately, not socks. It wasn’t even some kind of novelty underwear. Perhaps worse than that even, it was a singlet top. A muscle back? One of those things. The things he wore to the gym. It was camo green, so that was a good start, but when he unfolded it, Nik’s stomach dropped to his knees, and he looked back up at Damen with absolute _murder_ in his eyes.

‘Do you like it?’ Damen asked – little _shit_. ‘I saw it and thought of you.’

‘What does it say?’ Nik’s mother asked, leaning forward on her chair in interest.

‘Nothing,’ Nik replied flatly. ‘Absolutely nothing.’

‘Is there an image on it?’ his father asked. ‘There’s something.’

‘Damianos,’ Nik said, voice level.

Damen looked like he was enjoying this, even as he recognised the tone in Nik’s voice. ‘Nikandros, my best and favourite friend.’

Nik calmly folded the top back up, slipping it into the bottom of the bag Damen’s gifts had come together in. ‘You’ve been demoted. Pallas is my best friend now.’

Damen’s mouth dropped into a perfect little _oh_ of shock as Nik picked up his menu.

He ignored him for the rest of the night. It was harder than he thought.

***

‘Nik,’ Damen whined pathetically outside the door of his apartment. ‘Please let me in. I have dumplings.’

Nik looked up from his book, squinting suspiciously at the front door. ‘From that place down the road?’

‘Yes!’

‘And spring rolls?’

‘Of course, I got spring rolls!’

Nik sighed, shut his book, and got up. ‘I’m still mad at you,’ he said, even as he opened the door and stepped aside for Damen to come in.

‘It was a _joke_ , Nik,’ Damen said, dropping the bag of food on Nik’s coffee table, then heading to the kitchen to grab some drinks. ‘I didn’t – I really shouldn’t have brought it to dinner, but honestly, I bought it months ago and couldn’t remember what it said. All I remembered was thinking it reminded me of you, not the actual words.’

‘Damen,’ Nik pursed his lips and pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment, as they stood in the kitchen. ‘You bought me a shirt that says _“Cum in me bro!!”_ with two exclamation marks at the end, and let me open it at a five-star restaurant with my _parents_ present.’

‘But like, it’s funny, right?’

‘It would’ve been much funnier if it wasn’t at a _five-star restaurant with my parents present_.’

‘Yeah,’ Damen pouted, handing Nik one of his own beers. ‘I’m sorry, for what it’s worth.’

‘Thank you.’

‘But it’s still kinda funny, right?’

Nik narrowed his eyes as they went back to the living room to the food. ‘It’s not that funny. It’s crude. Where do you expect me to wear it?’

‘The gym? I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it.’

‘Clearly.’

‘Nik,’ Damen pushed the box of food towards him. ‘I brought apology dumplings. Am I forgiven?’

‘I suppose,’ Nik said, breaking apart his chopsticks to grab one and wave it threateningly at Damen. ‘But if you pull shit like that again, I’ll shove a dumpling up your nose. Fair?’

‘Fair,’ Damen agreed, taking a dumpling and cramming it in his mouth. ‘You know,’ he said, through a mouthful of food, ‘you could always wear it on laundry day.’

‘I’m considering just getting rid of it, actually.’

‘You can’t do that, I got it for you _specially_.’

‘I will not wear it.’

‘One day you might need a shirt. Maybe to give to a hook up or something after they lose their own clothes somehow.’

‘An emergency shirt.’

‘An emergency shirt,’ Damen nodded.

Nik rolled his eyes. ‘Fine. But you will not see me wearing it.’

‘I suppose can live with that,’ Damen paused, clicking his chopsticks thoughtfully. ‘Maybe just one picture? For posterity?’

‘Don’t push it.’

‘Yep, copy that.’

***

Auguste had a problem.

He’d recently moved to a new apartment building, which in itself wasn’t a bad thing, but that somewhere in the building was a very, _very_ attractive man – that was the problem. Not just a random man; one specific man. Well, he was kind of random, because Auguste didn’t know anything about him, except that he wore very sharp suits during weekdays, and very soft looking shirts and jeans on the weekends. He was always on his phone in the elevator if they ever shared it, or if he was walking in or out of the building.

Auguste was in love.

But he was never going to get anywhere with him if he didn’t pull some moves to find out if this guy would even be into him, so he forced himself to lay some groundwork.

‘Hey,’ he said, one morning when he stepped into the elevator to go down. He didn’t know why he did it, and mystery guy looked up curiously from his phone.

‘Hey,’ he replied cautiously, his mouth quirking into a small smile and – did he look Auguste up and down? Was that an assessment or an _assessment_?

‘I just moved in,’ Auguste said, grabbing onto anything he could to make this less weird and awkward. ‘I live here.’

‘Yeah, I gathered that from the “I just moved in”.’

‘Oh, right, yeah, of course,’ Auguste muttered, forcing his hands into his pockets.

‘I’m Nik. Tenth floor.’

‘Auguste, eighth.’

‘I know, I just watched you get on.’

Auguste pursed his lips. He should just not say anything ever again. ‘Of course, yeah.’

Nik grinned, slipping his phone into the pocket of his suit with one hand and adjusting the strap of his bag with the other. ‘What do you do, Auguste?’

‘Make a fool of myself, apparently.’

Nik blinked in surprise. ‘Oh,’ he said, right as the doors opened on the ground floor. ‘I’ll see you around.’

Auguste nodded numbly, watching Nik leave for a moment, before realising he should also be leaving the elevator.

Fucking damn. That went terribly. At least he tried. Laurent would no doubt find it hilarious, so Auguste resolved not to say anything about it to him.

The next time he saw Nik was a few days later in the elevator. Again. It was the weekend, and clearly laundry day, judging by the tall basket, piled high up Nik’s chest as he headed to the basement. Luckily for him, Auguste was going the same way, so he got to watch the swell of Nik’s muscles as he hauled the basket to the machines and set it down to start sorting.

Auguste didn’t want to be weird, and surprisingly remembered it would be weird to be directly beside him in the otherwise empty laundry, and set his stuff down at a machine further down the line.

He did keep stealing glances at Nik, though, and he was kind of glad he did, because even if it was a little weird to do so, it meant he got to see the shirt he had on.

‘Jesus,’ Auguste said loudly as he read the shirt and went back to sorting his laundry.

‘What?’ Nik asked, before he looked down to his chest and groaned. ‘A gift from my friend. I’m so sorry.’

‘I mean – it fits… well,’ Auguste said weakly, the words _Cum in me bro!!_ running through his mind.

‘Yeah, at least he got the sizing right,’ Nik muttered. ‘It’s my absolutely no choice, final back up shirt. I’ve been busy lately.’

Auguste glanced back down to it. ‘It’s very… gay.’

‘Thank you, so am I.’

Auguste snapped his eyes back to Nik from the laundry he was sorting. ‘Are you?’

‘Well, half. More or less.’ Nik frowned, tossing the shirt in his hands to one of the machines he’d claimed. ‘I’m bi, you know?’

‘Oh,’ Auguste nodded. ‘Same. I mean, in theory.’

‘How about in practice?’

Auguste turned back to his laundry, suddenly feeling a lot more in his area of expertise. ‘Are you flirting with me?’

‘Depends if you’re flirting back.’

‘Maybe I’ll have to flirt back, then.’

Nik smiled as he tossed a couple of shirts into one of his machines, leaning his hip against it. ‘Good, but just so you know, this shirt isn’t entirely accurate.’

_Cum in me bro!!_ Auguste raised an eyebrow. ‘It would be if I was wearing it.’

Nik laughed in surprise. ‘Alright then. I’d give you the shirt, but I think my friend would be offended.’

‘Offend your friend,’ Auguste said, much quicker than even he had anticipated. He shut his mouth with an audible click of his jaw. ‘Or don’t.’

Nik looked him over appraisingly. ‘I might.’

Auguste paused in loading his laundry, clenching his fingers on the edge of the machine as he glanced sideways at Nik. ‘It’s illegal to play with my feelings,’ he muttered.

‘Oh, is it?’

‘I’m a lawyer, so I say it is.’

Nik hummed and tossed a couple of things in his machine. ‘My friend said I could give it to a hook up if they mysteriously lost their clothes.’

Auguste’s hands twitched towards the edge of his shirt, tempted to throw it in the wash right now. ‘Mysteriously?’

‘Oh, you know, getting lost in the couch cushions, or maybe left behind in an elevator.’

Auguste bit his bottom lip, watching Nik sort his laundry. ‘You know what else is illegal?’

‘I’m sure you’re going to tell me.’

Auguste laughed. ‘I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to uh… recreate –’

‘Recreate?’ Nik repeated, turning towards Auguste. ‘Recreate what? Are you calling time on all renaissance societies right now?’

‘No, like – _recreate_. You know? The… bonk.’

Nik gave a startled laugh. _‘Bonk?’_

‘Shut up.’

‘The word you’re looking for might be _procreate_.’

Auguste blushed. ‘Look, you still got my meaning.’

‘I think I might’ve missed how it’s illegal to have sex now? Was there a bulletin? An email? Someone must’ve forgot to CC me in on that one.’

‘No,’ Auguste groaned. ‘Oh my god, shut up. To do it in a shared space.’

‘A lot of places could be classed as a shared space,’ Nik said drily.

‘Look, I’m trying to say we should go to an apartment because _clearly_ I’m flustered enough by you to be acting like _this_ , and you’re…’

Nik raised an eyebrow. ‘What am I?’

‘Really hot and flirting with me.’

‘And you’re flustered.’

‘I am very flustered.’

Nik hummed and put some detergent in his machine, closing it and setting a cycle. ‘I have someone coming over in twenty minutes. Does that work?’

‘I can make that work,’ Auguste agreed, throwing the rest of his clothes in with some detergent and following Nik from the laundry room.

***

Damen yawned as he headed down the hall to Nik’s apartment, swinging the bag of food in one hand, and texting on his phone with the other. He glanced up as he heard footsteps coming towards him. ‘Oh,’ he knew that person. ‘Hey, Auguste.’

‘Hey,’ Auguste nodded. ‘How’s my brother?’

‘He kicked me out to study.’

‘Sounds about right,’ Auguste squirmed a little. ‘Anyway, I gotta go. Tell him I say hi.’

‘Will do,’ Damen said, taking a second to read Auguste’s shirt. ‘Huh, I got my friend a shirt like that a while back.’

Auguste looked down at it and cleared his throat. ‘Small world. I need to check my laundry. Bye, Damen.’

‘Yeah, see ya,’ Damen nodded, continuing on to Nik’s apartment and knocking on the door.

‘Back already – _Damen_ ,’ Nik blinked. ‘Hi. Food. Good. Come in.’

Damen narrowed his eyes at Nik’s half-naked appearance. ‘What were you doing before I got here?’

‘Nothing, why do you ask?’ Nik said quickly.

‘You better wash your hands before you touch this food,’ Damen warned. ‘I know what _nothing_ is.’

‘No, you don’t. There’s no one here.’

‘Not anymore.’ Damen sat on Nik’s couch and watched him suspiciously as he got the containers of food out. ‘I bumped into someone in the hall.’

‘Oh?’ Nik said casually. ‘Who?’

Damen tilted his head. ‘Slut,’ he accused.

‘Who?’

‘You.’

‘Me? _No._ ’

Damen grinned. ‘That was your shirt Auguste was wearing?’

‘What? Who? No!’ Nik said loudly. ‘I don’t know who that is!’

‘Oh, you _liar_. You know who he is!’

Nik paused for a moment. ‘How do _you_ know who he is?’

‘He’s my boyfriend’s brother,’ Damen said, watching as Nik thought, the wheels visibly turning in his head.

‘Oh,’ Nik nodded. ‘Yeah, I see the resemblance.’

‘He was in your shirt.’

Nik sighed, poking a dumpling. ‘Yeah.’

‘Told you it would come in handy,’ Damen laughed, a joke occurring to him. ‘Come in a _lot_ of things.’

‘I hate you.’

**Author's Note:**

> as always, i'm on [tweeter](http://twitter.com/daamiaanos) and [tumblr](http://damiaanos.tumblr.com) so come say hi! :3c


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